


Rage On

by gunslingaaahhh



Series: Rage [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-10
Updated: 2011-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-24 23:18:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunslingaaahhh/pseuds/gunslingaaahhh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny is still fired up from the happenings of Ep 1:16, soooo yeah. Steve helps him out with the emotional turmoil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rage On

It had been one of the longest days ever, Steve was sure of it. He'd finally made his way home, had scrubbed at himself until the skin came off in places, had tossed his sweat-soaked camo clothes into the laundry basket, had gingerly popped blisters on his feet from the moisture that had leaked into his boots.

  
Now he was sitting on the back deck, sprawled on a lawn chair, a beer forgotten by his side. As tired as he was, as physically and mentally exhausting as this day had been, he couldn't sleep. His brain just... didn't want to shut off, it seemed. Scenarios that both had and had not happened kept running through his mind; when the log had let go and slammed into that one guy, the assassin, oh man, Steve could still hear the "oof!" and the air literally being forced from the man's lungs. That part brought a smile to his face, even made him _giggle_ a little, and at that Steve realized he was extremely overtired. He didn't giggle, at anything, ever.

Groaning, he sat up in his chair and was ready to haul himself up when he felt his phone go off. It was still in vibrate and it buzzed at him angrily until he located and answered it. He hadn't had to look at the caller ID to know who it was.

"'Lo?"

"Oh good, you're still awake."

"Uh, yeah. Actually, I was just getting ready to--"

"I'm down the street, I'll be there in five."

The call ended and Steve just sat there, staring at the little screen. Of course Danny would choose _now_ to come over. It made perfect sense. Maneuvering himself out of the chair, Steve padded into the house and settled onto the couch in the living room to wait.

Within minutes Danny was storming in, hair disheveled, tie over his shoulder. Steve could tell almost immediately from his demeanor that he was still revved up from what had happened earlier that day, and that no amount of calming or soothing words were going to deter the shorter man from having his say. And say he did.

"Do you know what kind of day I've had? I mean really, I'm sure you had a wonderful time gallivanting through the rain forest, but considering how my day went, I think I'm willing to trade."

Steve waited patiently, arms folded across his chest, for Danny to continue. He was too tired to say anything in response, anyways.

"I felt a little better, after I talked with you, but man I was so heated... and yeah, I know that me beating some low-life housing commissioner to a bloody pulp wouldn't reflect well on the team, but you have no idea how _tempted_ I was, Steve. I was so close to just... pounding the fuck out of that guy." Danny is smacking one fist in the palm of his other hand for emphasis, and Steve nods, seemingly in understanding.

"The worst part, though, the part that _still_ makes me sick, is how little control I had over the situation, how little control I _have_ when it comes to what happens to Grace when I'm not around. To think that something awful could happen to her when I'm not there to protect her... that Rachel and Stan couldn't protect her..."

Danny's voice trails off then, softening, and Steve can see that the other man is struggling to contain his emotions, struggling to keep the dam at bay. Steve motions for Danny to sit beside him, and Danny does, putting his head in his hands.

"I feel like a failure."

"What?" Steve asks, taken aback. "Failure to who, for what? Because you aren't clairvoyant and had no idea that something was going on with Stan, that something was going to happen to Grace? Being a parent doesn't automatically make you Superman, Danny, you can't know everything that goes on with your kids all the time."

"You don't understand," Danny huffs, looking at Steve with a scowl. "Someone _pointed a gun_ at her, pointed a gun at my _baby_ , and I couldn't do a thing about it. What if... what if they'd _pulled the trigger_ , huh?"

Steve sits, shocked that the words were even formed mentally, let alone came out of Danny's mouth. He watches the other man, watches Danny's face break and the tears come in harsh, stuttering gasps. He's covering his face with his hands, muffling the sounds. Steve carefully puts an arm around Danny's shoulders and just holds him, the two of them side by side. Danny's shoulders shake with his crying, and the longer it goes on the worse it gets, and Steve reaches around with his other arm and pulls Danny closer to him, so that the smaller man is sobbing against his chest.

"You can't think about the 'what ifs' with things like this, ok? You'll make yourself crazy. Grace is ok, Rachel is ok. Grace knows you love her and that you'd never let anything happen to her."

"But what if something _does_ happen?!" Danny practically wails, caught in the middle of his overwhelming emotions. He's wiping at his eyes, hiccuping from the force of his sobs, completely oblivious to the strong arms encircling him.

"Then we'll be there to do something about it, and make sure it never happens again," Steve says, quietly. The tone of his voice is firm.

Danny is quiet, his breath stuttering in his chest as he tries to calm down. Steve is rubbing slow circles into his back, in an attempt to be soothing. Scrubbing at his face, Danny lets out a heavy sigh, and Steve can feel it shudder it's way through his whole body.

"I just feel like Stan is so irresponsible when it comes to her. He gets himself into this trouble and then jet-sets to Thailand or some other bullshit, leaving Rachel and Grace to fend for themselves. God, I wish he'd just said something to me in the first place! Then we wouldn't be having this conversation," and it is then that Danny realizes Steve still has his arms wrapped around him, that he is practically in Steve's lap. He's very close to the other man, and he just stares at him, unsure of how to proceed.

Steve stares back, marveling at how vulnerable and emotionally _naked_ his partner is at this moment. Danny's eyes are red-rimmed from crying, and they are bright still with unshed tears. There is none of the usual bravado, the cocky know-it-all who has an answer for everything. Steve leans in slowly and presses his lips to Danny's forehead for a chaste, dry kiss.

For his part, Danny freezes, feeling completely out of his element. His brain immediately tries to rationalize the gesture as something that is supposed to be calming, to make him feel better, but that doesn't shake the _weirdness_ of it, the out-of-placeness.

"I... I have an idea." Steve's voice is clipped, and Danny frowns, not wanting to look Steve in the face.

"I think," the taller man begins again, "that maybe being a position of control might make you feel better."

"Unless you've got that commissioner guy stashed in your closet somewhere trussed up and ready for me to beat, I'm not following."

Steve swallows audibly before continuing, a blush racing it's way up his neck.

"No, I mean... with me. I don't really let you control how our days go, with work and everything, and I bet that's pretty stressful, right? Well, I'm giving you a chance to take it out on me. Get everything out; today, all the times I've driven your car, any of it."

"... you're gonna let me... beat you up?"

"Um... if... if that's what you want, sure. But it can be anything, it doesn't have to be violent."

Danny is silent, staring at Steve and thinking. Sure, he'd love a go on a punching bag, a _human_ punching bag, even, but taking his aggressions out on Steve feels wrong, because as much as he may gripe about it, Steve hasn't wronged him, hasn't _hurt_ him in the way Stan or those car-jackers did. Hurting Steve for the sake of hurting him isn't going to make him feel better.

"If I'm not beating the piss out of you, then what am I doing?"

Steve doesn't answer. Instead, he once again presses his lips to Danny's forehead, then to his temple, then to his cheek. Danny sits stock-still, frozen in place encircled by Steve's long arms. He's shocked, to say the very least, when Steve's lips find his own. This kiss is as chaste as the others, with no moves made to investigate further.

When he pulls back, Steve is ten shades of red, brows furrowed and expression worried. He isn't sure of what he's doing, isn't sure if this is the route he should be taking, but knowing that Danny needs some sort of release or else he'll explode.

"Are you for real with this never-been-kissed little girl shit?" he asks, one eyebrow quirking as he removes himself from Steve's grasp.

Steve's face crumples and he struggles to find words to explain himself. He's struggling up until the minute he feels Danny put his hands on either side of his face and hold him still so he can kiss him. Steve's eyebrows shoot up his forehead and he freezes, arms in midair. Danny's kiss is much more forceful, wetter, and totally full of that old machismo Steve knows well. When he pulls away Steve is breathless, lips slightly swollen from the force of it.

"That's how you do it," Danny mutters, stuffing his hands into his pockets and blushing. His eyes flick over to Steve's face, and the dazed expression must do something to him, must flip a switch or something, because he's grabbing the front of Steve's shirt and hauling up so they are face-to-face and Danny is kissing him again, taking advantage of the other man's shock and using it to force his tongue into Steve's mouth. He explores, tasting, loving the power Steve is giving him, and secretly kicking himself for knowing that Steve is right.

Danny has almost no control over anything in his life. He has no say in how often he sees his daughter, whether or not he gets to drive his own car, whether or not he's going to be shot at. He can't find a decent sub shop anywhere near his apartment, can't find the right ingredients he needs to cook food from back home.

But here, now, kissing Steve, he has complete control of the situation. He decides when it ends, who the boss is. And if that isn't a huge turn-on, he doesn't know what is. He can feel himself hardening, the prospect of complete control incredibly enticing.

He pulls away again, leaving Steve gasping.

"Ok, I'm gonna take you up on this ridiculous offer. But you have to promise, right here and now, that you are going to do _everything_ I say. I don't want backtalk, or sass, or attitude. No faces, no tone, none of it."

"Y-yes, I swear, whatever you say."

"Good," Danny says, running his fingers through his hair. He's regained most of his composure and he feels good now that he's in the driver's seat, figuratively speaking.

"Upstairs. Now," he orders, and Steve is moving, long legs taking him to the stairs and up to the second floor easily. "Get undressed and lay face-down on the bed," he calls up the stairs before beginning to pace around the first floor.

This is so not what professional people who work together do in their spare time, he knows that, but an offer has been laid out, and Danny isn't going to leave this one on the table, not after the day he's had. Rage had sent blood thundering through his veins, adrenaline propelling him forward into that restaurant where he roughed up the housing commissioner. He'd been running hot even after he'd gotten back to Rachel and Stan's place, and some of that heat was resurfacing the more he thought about it. That heat made it's way to his groin and pooled there. He didn't mind, actually. If fucking the pain away was what it would take, then so be it.

Steve had done as asked, and was laying down on his bed, the comforter and sheets pulled back to reveal just the fitted sheet beneath. He was nervous, on the verge of panic even, but resigned himself to the fact that he had offered himself up to Danny as a means of catharsis. Danny wouldn't do anything that would hurt him too terribly, and even if there was pain, Steve had been trained to withstand it. He'd be fine.

Those thoughts didn't stop the shiver of apprehension from rifling through him, though, when Danny entered the room. He didn't turn his head to look when Danny started going through the nightstand drawers, searching. He heard the other man mutter a small "aha!" when he found what he was looking for and shivered when he felt the bed dip to his left, the mattress sinking with the added weight.

"I want you to stay facing this way, alright? Until I tell you otherwise. Is that understood?"

"Yes."

"Good," and Steve could hear Danny unzipping his pants. He felt the other man lean over him and he could feel that Danny was still fully clothed. This had become a power thing, and what more power was there to be had in the bedroom, when one was naked and the other clothed?

There was no warning when Steve felt a slippery finger begin to prod between his cheeks. He hissed and clenched his muscles, which resulted in a resounding slap.

"Don't. Do. That." Danny bit out, and Steve immediately tried to relax, taking deep breaths in through his nose and releasing them slowly from his mouth. He wiggled against the mattress, trying to readjust before stilling. He felt the probing finger again, and this time just grit his teeth, trying to keep his muscles as relaxed as humanly possible.

The finger stroked at his clenched hole, and the sensation was strange. It was wet and cold and Steve decided he didn't like it, and would tell Catherine so the next time she suggested it to him. He grit his teeth harder when the finger tried to push it's way in and it was all he could do to not scuttle away, to tell Danny he took it back.

That would be terrible of him, though. He was trying to be a friend, here, and if that meant letting his partner fuck him in the ass, then so be it.

The finger pushed in to the second knuckle and stopped. Steve could feel the tight rings of muscle spazzing around the finger, fluttering. He could hear Danny grunt a little and retract the finger a bit before pushing it back in. Steve knew what Danny was doing, of course, had done this a few times himself to the few girls he'd gotten with when he was a teenager. He'd been more gentle, obviously, and he hadn't been sticking his fingers in their asses, but the procedure was still basically the same. Danny was trying to stretch him out, loosen him up, get his muscles to relax.

He couldn't help himself when a second finger tried to pry it's way inside.

"Shit, that burns, Danny," he whispered, fingers clenching around the sheets.

Danny doesn't reply, just pops the top on the lube he'd found in the drawer and drizzles more of it onto his fingers and Steve's hole. He's methodical and precise, almost clinical, and part of that is calming for Steve.

The second finger makes it's way inside, and both of them are pushing in and out now. The burn is gone, and the stretching of the muscles doesn't hurt, exactly, but it doesn't feel good, either. The sensation is strange and Steve endures it, wondering how many more fingers Danny is going to force inside him before he gets on with it.

Silently, the questions are answered as Danny puts only a third finger inside, wiggling his fingers and stretching the tight space. He knows that no matter what he does, Steve is still going to have to stretch to accommodate him, and that it is highly likely that it will hurt like a bitch.

But hey, Steve offered, so he had no one to blame but himself.

Danny leans back over Steve's body, hovering over his back. "I'm gonna put it in you, now," he says, his voice low and tinged with anger. He doesn't wait for Steve to reply, just leans back up on his knees and adjusts his pants so they are down off his butt. His groin is entirely exposed, his dick hard and thick and ready. The head is a dark, mottled, angry purple and Danny runs a hand up and over the shaft, thumb flicking over the head. He shudders at the contact before gripping himself and lining up with Steve's opening.

Steve tenses before remembering that doing so will only make it worse. He takes a deep breath and holds it when he feels the head of Danny's cock press against him. It pushes against his hole, the tight rim of muscle not ready to give yet. Steve exhales sharply before taking in and holding another breath. Danny breaches his opening, then, and slides in a little bit before Steve's body reacts and clamps down on the intrusion.

Danny is breathing heavily, chest heaving. He's only a third of the way inside, but already he can feel how tight Steve is, and he has to refrain from just plowing on in. If he does, he'll lose it right there, and that isn't a part of the plan. No, he deserves to take his time and _enjoy_ this, regardless of whether Steve does or not.

Steve starts to rear back up onto his knees, spreading his legs and opening up his pelvis. He's fucked Catherine in the ass at least once, has felt her do this, and is hoping that since it seems to ease her discomfort that it'll do the same for him. He hears Danny groan approval from above him, and almost screams when he feels the other man slide the rest of the way inside, balls deep.

They stay like that, unmoving for a few minutes while Steve acclimates and Danny catches his breath. Before long, though, Danny is moving, applying more lubricant as needed to smooth out the ride. He has a firm grip on Steve's hips and is pushing him this way and that until he has the perfect angle. He hears Steve gasp harshly beneath him and he grins. He moves the exact same way again and this time Steve squeaks. Grinning, he picks up the pace.

There are explosions behind Steve's eyes, and he can honestly say he's never felt this before, ever. There is something, some feel-good thing inside him and oh, Danny is hitting it with every stroke, his dick gliding over it with every motion and Steve feels like he's going to explode, it feels so good. His own dick is hard and throbbing against his belly and he's amazed, because he thought he'd just be a warm hole for Danny to use, he didn't think he'd enjoy himself, that he'd feel good. But he does, and he reacts, his body moving more fluidly with Danny, moving in sync with him.

"That's... oh my God, Danny, that's... what is that?" he mumbles, his breath catching.

"That's what it feels like to be fucked, my friend," Danny says, before adjusting his position so he is more actually on top of Steve before setting a debilitating pace.

Steve's whole body is moving in response, the bed-frame is slamming into the wall, and Steve can't help the noises of pleasure escaping his throat. He's too far gone to care, has snuck a hand beneath himself to grip his throbbing cock and touch himself while Danny pounds into him, mercilessly. Danny seems to be beyond comprehension himself, his body a piston. His eyes are screwed shut, and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth. His hair is falling over his forehead and sweat is rolling down the sides of his neck, some of it dripping onto Steve's back.

Steve is close, now, seconds away from falling over the edge, and he clenches around Danny's dick, trying to hurry him along. Danny grunts in response, he's close too, his balls fat and swollen and ready. Steve is cumming, then, ribbons of jism shooting through his fist and onto the sheets. He can feel Danny cum, then, too, hot inside him. The two of them shudder together, riding the aftershocks. Steve collapses onto the mattress, Danny following suit, heavy on top of him.

They lay like that for a few minutes before Danny pulls out, leaving a strange, achy emptiness behind. Steve slowly rolls onto his side and watches Danny go to the en suite bathroom to get a towel. He comes back, everything tucked away, and wipes Steve off as well, the washcloth warm and wet. The washcloth is put in the laundry basket and Danny is standing beside the bed, hands stuffed into his pockets.

The lights are off, and it's dark, but Steve is pretty sure Danny is blushing right now. That's ok, because he is, too.

"I... I, um... well, you know, it's--"

"We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to, Danno."

"We... we don't?"

"No. I know you feel the need to talk everything out, but... this doesn't need to be like that."

"I just... I don't want..." Danny starts, floundering. Steve sits up, crossing his legs Indian style in front of him, hands idle in his lap.

"It won't be weird... I'm not gonna be weird... are you?"

"No, no I won't be weird. Not on purpose, anyway..."

"Ok, so let's agree to not being weird about it, later."

"Ok."

"And if you, uh, if you ever feel like you're losing your grip, you know, you can always let me know." Steve finishes lamely, picking at the sheets.

Danny is quiet, thinking. He huffs a breath, then and closes the distance between himself and the bed, where he leans down and kisses Steve on the cheek.

"Thank you... y'know... for letting me," he says shyly before backing up towards the door. Steve is a little surprised by the motion, but accepts it with a small smile. He watches Danny leave the room, listens to the sounds of him making his way through the house and out to his car, which starts and drives away unceremoniously.

"No," Steve whispers to himself in the quiet, "thank you."


End file.
